


Gray Dragons

by xiaoyangdery



Category: NCT (Band), WAYV
Genre: Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Drugs, Kinda open ending, Kkangpae, M/M, Mentioned Dong Sicheng - Freeform, Mentioned Kim Jungwoo (NCT), Mentioned Lee Donghyuck | Haechan, Mentioned Lee Jeno, Mentioned Mark Lee (NCT), Mentioned Moon Taeil, Mentioned NCT Ensemble, Mentioned Nakamoto Yuta, Mentioned Qian Kun, Mentioned Suh Youngho | Johnny, Minor Huang Ren Jun, Violence, idk what else to tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:53:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23734918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xiaoyangdery/pseuds/xiaoyangdery
Summary: And so, Dejun concluded one thing.Lee Taeyong will be the downfall of Jung Jaehyun, and eventually, the downfall of the Gray Dragons.
Relationships: Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Lee Taeyong
Comments: 6
Kudos: 67





	Gray Dragons

**Author's Note:**

> Note 1: I just used the term geondal (건달) in this story, which refers to organized crimes, but the more common term is kkangpae (깡패), which directly translates to “thug”, “gangster”, or “hoodlum”.
> 
> Note 2: Ages: Dejun, 22  
> Taeyong, 30  
> Jaehyun, 28  
> Youngho, Taeil, Yuta, Kun, 30  
> Sicheng, Jungwoo, 26  
> Minhyung, Jeno, Donghyuck, 19
> 
> TW: violence, blood, use of guns and other weapons, mention of suicide and death. Please heed warnings and tags. Proceed at your own risk.

_Gray Dragons._

To many, the name does not sound appealing. It is, for the lack of better term, lackluster. The combination of the two words do not match. For where dragons are mighty creatures, the color gray is boring.

Gold is better, as the word itself screams wealth and prosperity. Silver might have even been a better choice, and the two certainly have a better ring to it than that of the color gray. Gray is boring. Gray is merely a combination of black and white. Gray is neutral.

And yet, for the whole of South Korea and other neighboring countries within Asia, these two words are enough to instill fear to the government and the police force. They are the rulers of South Korea’s underground scene—from black markets to drug trades, the name Gray Dragons is always uttered, albeit with hushed whispers.

\--

For the young Xiao Dejun, being a member of the elite _geondal_ Gray Dragons has never been part of his plan as an adult. But after spending four years from the moment he turned eighteen, he thinks it is better that his uncle pawned him off to the Dragons after failing to pay his gambling debt than to die off in the streets all alone.

He owes the Gray Dragons his life, and in turn, he vowed to give the Dragons all of him—even his life.

One thing Dejun cannot understand is why the second-in-command within the triad chose to stay with a common man, who, in his eyes, is but a mere lowly person who owns a pastry shop within the district. He cannot understand why their protection extends to the weak man when he is not officially a family.

He has since voiced out the questions plaguing his mind to Qian Kun, another Dragon, but was answered in what seemed to be riddles, much like what a lot of Dragons do.

”Who is Lee Taeyong?” he asked multiple times. He’s asked Youngho, Taeil, and Dongyoung, who has been part of the Gray Dragons way before he joined. He has also asked Minhyung, Jeno and Donghyuck, whose family has always been loyal to the prior generations of the Gray Dragons, thinking that they may have an idea about the man, but they remained mum about it.

_He’s the Black Dragon’s lifeline._

Dejun infers that it is but a mere joke. _The Black Dragon’s lifeline?_ Every time he hears the sentence, he scoffs. Just how could a weak, common man like Lee Taeyong, be their second-in-command’s lifeline?

_Black Dragon. Jung Jaehyun._

Perhaps, through the eyes of a normal citizen, Jung Jaehyun could pass off as a salesman or a consultant. He knows how to talk, he could convince people to do things for him without batting an eyelash, and have everyone at his command in a matter of seconds. He could also be a celebrity, or even an idol, given his good looks and physique, a deep, baritone voice, and, while Dejun has only seen them a couple of times, Jaehyun also has a nice pair of dimples.

But Dejun also knows that the only negotiations Jaehyun do are those of firearms and drugs, and his leader would rather hold a gun than a microphone.

And so, as he drives Jaehyun that afternoon to Taeyong’s pastry shop, he observes, much more than he used to every single day. He observes Taeyong, thinking how dainty the man is, with his white dyed hair and soft-features. He observes, albeit subtly, how he talks to the Black Dragon, how he entertains the customers at the quaint shop, how he converses with his employees, and how, every time their eyes meet, he would send Dejun a smile accompanied with a small nod.

From his observations, Dejun noted three things: first, he has quick reflexes and moves fluidly. May it be from the way he was able to catch the glass of water one employee accidentally knocked from the table beside Taeyong, or from the way he was able to move through the throng of people to refill empty trays of pastries within the glass displays, the man moves with grace akin to a ballerina.

Second thing he observed: Taeyong has a pretty face. Objectively speaking, Dejun knows he is also good-looking, but he can say that Taeyong is on another level. He’s heard the whispers of some customers, a few familiar by the face, given that he almost always drives Jaehyun to the store. Men and women alike are entranced by the man’s physical beauty, although he’s also heard how kind-hearted Taeyong is. He has even heard from a group of older women how it is a shame that a fine man like Lee Taeyong is taken already, and that their daughters have no chances anymore. Yet in his thoughts, his boss’s lover is no different from an eye-candy or a trophy wife.

Lastly, Taeyong does not simply yield, even to Jaehyun. When Jaehyun says something and Taeyong says another, they will speak for a while then pause, observing each other, and Jaehyun will usually offer a compromise, to which Taeyong will finally agree to or accept.

And so, Dejun concluded one thing.

_Lee Taeyong will be the downfall of Jung Jaehyun, and eventually, the downfall of the Gray Dragons._

\--

Two years ago, when he was formally initiated as a Dragon, Dejun promised himself that he will never leaver, pledging allegiance to the triad. He is willing to sacrifice whatever it takes in order to make sure that he gives nothing but his best for the Gray Dragons, even a human life.

He is also aware of the unspoken rule that one cannot simply leave. Those who did are either counting the number of days they can stay alive, are six feet underground, or burned to ashes with not a single trace. Leaving is an act of cowardice and betrayal, and Dejun is neither a coward, nor is he a traitor.

Two years later, present time, he will fulfill this promise.

It had been a total coincidence when he heard Sicheng and Jungwoo talking about it, but he cannot do anything about it. He pretended not to have caught anything, feigning ignorance by bopping his head with his headphones on despite not having any music playing. Frankly speaking, he didn’t hear much, but he heard enough.

As he waits for sleep to visit him that night, he thought about Sicheng’s and Jungwoo’s words from earlier.

_“It’s today, right?” Sicheng said. “March 23. It’s been, what, five years?”_

_“Six,” Jungwoo corrected. “Six years since Taeyong left Gray Dragons.”_

_“It feels not too long ago, but it also feels like it’s been ages.”_

_“Yeah, it definitely does.”_

_\--_

_Lee Taeyong is a burden, a coward, and a traitor._

These words are the first thoughts that came to mind the moment Dejun opened his eyes that morning. Jungwoo and Sicheng’s conversation from the prior night kept replaying in his head. It’s a good thing, he supposes, as he finally had an idea how the Black Dragon and the lowlife got together.

 _But not for long,_ his mind supplies. _I’ll take it upon myself to bring down the traitor, and the Gray Dragons shall prosper on forever without the burden._

It didn’t take long for him to plan a strategy. The sooner, the better, he reasons with himself. He just had to make sure that the Black Dragon won’t see through him.

As though the highest deities were in his favor, the Black Dragon has a negotiation with the Nakamoto clan, a Yakuza group and longtime ally of the Gray Dragons from Japan. The Black Dragon flew overseas at dawn on a Saturday, and their talks with the said clan usually lasted for a whole day or two as the current heir also likes to catch up with an acquaintance over a few bottles of alcohol.

Within that allotted time, Dejun convinced himself that he will be able to do the perfect crime: lure Taeyong somewhere quiet and secluded, kill him off, dispose of the body, and carry on with his life while acting like nothing happened.

Dejun has rid himself of any guilt or remorse over the years. He has killed many people during his stay in the triad—politicians, celebrities, other high profile officials and high-ranking people within other groups. What’s another life lost and blood on his hands going to do?

Absolutely nothing.

\--

The sun has already set, and the full moon is starting to ascend. A quick glance at his wristwatch tells him it’s currently six p.m. He pulls up in front of Taeyong’s shop, just in time to see the man locking the doors. Mustering a distressed face, he approached the white-haired male, forgoing pleasantries.

“Mister Lee,” he speaks with urgency, “you must come with me right now.”

“What’s wrong, Dejun?” Taeoyng asks softly, confusion in his face.

“I’ll explain in the car, please, just get in.”

Taeyong immediately obeyed him, seating in the passenger seat, and Dejun drove away.

“Please explain to me what’s going on,” Taeyong said after a few minutes of silence.

Dejun faces him for a second before focusing again on the road. “It’s the Black Dragon. He was injured.”

“What? But where are we going? Isn’t he in Japan negotiating with Yuta?”

_Ah, so he knows the heir of the Nakamoto enough to be on first name basis with him? But not for long, you traitor._

“He was in Japan earlier today, yes, but he sealed the deal earlier than expected and he decided to come over to the warehouse 13 to check the inventory of the hospital drugs from our Russian deal. A politician from Daegu wanted to buy some of the drugs to donate to some local hospital for publicity. I’m not sure if he’s told you about it but there has been a recent rise of local gangs in another district under our jurisdiction. They have caused several commotions injured civilians, and one even reportedly died.”

“That’s terrible,” Taeyong frowns.

_It is indeed terrible, Taeyong, but only for you._

“I just got a word that the Black Dragon has been injured.”

“What?!”

“Some members of the local gang apparently followed the Dragons over to the warehouse and started a fight. They wanted to steal our supplies. The Black Dragon was shot in the chest, Mister Lee. Although it was on the right side, he lost a lot of blood. That was the final report I got just before I picked you up. And, Mister Lee, I know it’s not within my task to do bring you here, but my loyalty extends to you.”

Dejun finally stops at the foot of a hill where the warehouse is located halfway up. They’re at least forty-five minutes away from the city, and the place where the warehouse located is secluded. They had to go by foot on a dirt road, before finally reaching the back door.

He holds the heavy metal door open for Taeyong, and the older made his way inside the dimly-illuminated warehouse. He stops in the middle, looking around, but finds not a single person inside.

“Dejun?” he turns to the younger male in confusion. “Where are the Dragons? Where’s Jaehyun? Why are there no people in here?”

“What do you mean, Taeyong?” Dejun smiled. “Of course there are people here.”

True enough, people started coming out from the dark. They came from behind the stacked boxes, from behind the steel pillars, and Taeyong could also see shadows by the second floor.

“Dejun.” Taeyong’s voice hardened. “What does this mean?”

“Oh, Taeyong,” Dejun drawls his name, voice dripping with faux innocence. “I think you know exactly what this means.”

By this time, Taeyong was surrounded by at least fifteen men carrying steel pipes and long pieces of wood.

Dejun turned his back and began walking away to take a seat on a wooden bench. He nods at the men who seem to be waiting for his instruction, and, upon his signal, five of them began attacking Taeyong.

“Have fun with him,” Dejun’s loud voice resounded through the space. He watches as the other men disperse through the open space, while the ones crowding around Taeyong continued on with their attacks. “Not too much fun, though. Just for an hour, I still have to dispose of the evidence and burn the body,” he adds as an afterthought.

He’ll let the men have their fun; those were members of a local gang within the closest neighborhood. He’s well aware that the most they have done are but petty crimes—robbing stores, stealing from houses, setting bikes on fire. But he is also aware than some of them are more ambitious; one look on their faces and he sees the desire to do something _more_. And so, he hires them with the promise of paying them a high price, in cash. The price is measly, at least for him, and it would barely make a dent on his account, but for the pathetic fools, it’s a pot of gold.

He mindlessly scrolls through his phone, noting that the Dragons’ private plane is due to land it at least seven more hours. It’s more than enough to clean bloodstains on the floor off should Taeyong spill his blood. Or perhaps, he doesn’t have to clean it at all. He can just spread a bunch of dirt across the stains and no one would be able to tell the difference from the rest. After all, many people have been killed in different spots within the warehouse, he can just leave Taeyong’s own, akin to an artist’s signature.

A pained cry shook him out of his musings, and he was surprised to see Taeyong standing amongst the fallen bodies of the local gangsters he hired. Three approached him from the side, and Taeyong easily picked up a steel pipe from the floor with his foot, throwing it and catching it with his hand. With a swift swing of his arm, it hits one on the head, knocking him unconscious, while the two stopped on their tracks, eyeing him, just waiting. In a matter of seconds, the two also dropped, both with a bloodied face and heavy wheezing.

Taeyong stares at his direction, eyes shining with a dangerous glint and lips curling into a sinister smile. The once pristine white shirt he wore was ripped on the sleeve and stained with dirt and blood, hanging loose on his body. There’s a bruise forming on his right cheekbone, and Dejun could see another one on his right forearm. He drags the steel pipe across the rough concrete, stalking towards his direction, and in that moment, Dejun felt in danger.

_This is not Taeyong…_

He sees three more men approached Taeyong from behind, and one of them brandishes a knife, but Dejun made the mistake of letting his eyes linger for a second longer as the white-haired male sensed on the oncoming attack. He twists his body on one foot, swinging his leg and kicking the one nearest to him. The toe of his shoe met with the man’s throat, sending his victim a good few meters away. The other two attacked him simultaneously, but Taeyong immediately found his bearing, swinging the pipe against one’s face, and landing a solid kick on the stomach of the one with the knife.

They both land on the hard surface with a groan, one more than the other. The knife-wielding man sits up with difficulty, gripping his only line of defense, and Taeyong steps on his wrist, putting all of his weight down until the man lets go of the blade with a pathetic howl. Dejun could clearly hear him crying, pleading for his life while Taeyong kicks away the knife.

Once done with the assault, Taeyong turns his attention back to him, still sporting the same sinister glint in his eyes.

The moment Taeyong took a step towards him, he bolted.

He ran over to the spiral staircase not from where he was seating, taking two steps at a time, and he could also hear the other man’s steps behind. Much of the warehouse was an open space, and there are only two rooms upstairs, one used by their leader, and the other is for the Black Dragon. He knows he can’t hide in the first room as he does not have access to it, and, while he has access to the other room, hiding in there may also mean death should he be trapped in an enclosed space with Taeyong.

 _No,_ he tells himself, _if someone dies today, it won’t be me. It can’t be me._

With a gulp, he scans his fingerprint on the door, hearing the familiar click. He quickly enters and slams the door shut, taking deep breaths to calm himself. For a moment, he tries to listen for something—anything—to tell him whether Taeyong is outside the door, but the only thing he can hear is his ragged breathing, remembering that the whole room is soundproof.

Something caught his attention, at the corner of his eyes. Displayed on top of the antique Japanese-style chest drawer was a _katana_ , gifted by the Nakamoto Clan to the Black Dragon a year ago for their successful deal. His mind reels back to his eighteen-year-old self, when he was still training to be a part of the Dragons. Part of it was learning how to hold and use different weapons, including a sword.

He takes the sword in his hands, familiarizing himself with a weapon he has not held in at least two years. If this shall be his weapon to kill Taeyong, then so be it. Suddenly he feels the vibration of his phone, only to see a message from Youngho asking his whereabouts. Disregarding the message and turning off his phone, Dejun was surprised to see the familiar beep of the door. He immediately takes the chance to run and hit Taeyong on the leg with the sheathed sword, causing the latter to drop on his knees with a groan. He kicks Taeyong’s chest, running past him back down the first level of the warehouse, knowing that he has more spaces to hide in than within the room.

Adrenaline rushed through Dejun’s veins, and he can hear a faint ringing in his ears. Crouching to hide behind several stacks of boxes, he tries to get his breathing back to normal, thinking of a strategy to push through with his plan, which is ending Taeyong’s life and burning his body, just that he may have to include the bodies of the ones who died in Taeyong’s hands.

Suddenly remembering them, he noted that there were only a fewer bodies on the floor than there were before Taeyong chased him, and he thinks that those who stayed alive may have left him alone. It’s fine for him, even works in his favor, as he knows those who survived will not tell a single soul lest they also wanted to live behind bars.

“Oh, Dejuuuuun,” Taeyong’s voice reverberated through the vast warehouse. “Where are you? We still have a fight to finish.”

His voice is taunting, yet cold, and Dejun cannot deny the shiver of fear he felt. But he has no plans on dying.

Suddenly, the topmost boxes from the stack where he was hiding was smashed, and hundreds of individually packed syringes scattered across the concrete. As another layer was hit, Dejun swiftly moved to avoid the boxes that toppled over.

He gripped the sheathed sword tightly, deciding that it’s time to stop hiding and proceed with his original motive. Taeyong may have killed those men whom Dejun hired, but he can’t be a match for Dejun himself, who has basically trained to be a killer.

 _I have nothing to be afraid of,_ Dejun tries to convince himself, noting that he has already wasted two hours, and any longer will put his plans into a halt, which he cannot afford to happen.

And so, he quickly moves to the opposite side of the stack, creating a good distance between himself and Taeyong, before ultimately revealing himself. Unsheathing the sword, he marvels at the sharp edge of the shiny metal, before positioning himself at the correct stance.

“Taeyong,” he calls, and the man turns to him. “Let’s finish this. I can assure you that I won’t be the one losing my life tonight. I can’t say the same thing about you, though.”

“Are you sure about that?” Taeyong taunts again, laughing.

Dejun is scared, and it’s unlike anything he’s felt before, because he rarely feels fear. Regardless, he convinces himself that he has the advantage over the older male. He is trained, and the sword in his hands is a far better weapon than the metal pipe Taeyong is holding.

And so, with a shout, he runs towards Taeyong, raising the sword and making a swish at his direction, but the blade only caught the end of Taeyong’s shirt as he made a move to avoid it, ripping the back side. For a few seconds, Dejun’s eyes caught a picture of something vaguely familiar inked on the other’s back, but he couldn’t place his finger into it.

Taeyong made no actual move to attack him, letting go of the metal pipe along the away as he avoided every hit. He seemed to toy with Dejun, merely running around the warehouse but not making too much distance between them while the latter started to slowly lose his energy.

“This is getting boring,” Taeyong stops in the middle of the vast space, “is that all you got, huh? How can you be with the Dragons when you’re this weak?”

“Shut up!” Dejun screamed. “Shut up! You’re the weak one! _You_ are the coward one! _You_ were the one who left the dragons! You’re the traitor, and I’m just doing the Dragons a favor by doing this!”

Taeyong’s entire demeanor changed upon hearing Dejun’s words, and the taunting smirk was replaced by a neutral face. Despite this, Taeyong’s eyes got colder, more ruthless.

The white-haired male approached him with slow, calculated steps, and Dejun found himself backing away until his further steps was blocked by stacks of boxes, and the only thing that separated him from Taeyong was the sword he still gripped tightly.

The door of the warehouse suddenly opened, and a light shone from behind Taeyong. It came from the headlights of a car, one which Dejun could recognize from everywhere.

It was Youngho who drove the car and the one who opened the backseat for the Black Dragon.

Jaehyun slid with ease and elegance, donning a black suit with a flower pattern intricately formed and sewn with gold sequins. He walks to where they were standing, stopping a good few meters away from Taeyong who already sensed his presence from the start but has yet to turn around and face him.

“What is this nonsense, Dejun?” Jaehyun’s voice was low and cold.

Dejun can’t speak.

Right at this moment, he knew he lost.

With a defeated sigh, he lets go of the _katana_ , followed by his body dropping on the floor afterwards. He stares at the Black Dragon, thinking of the words to say and mustering the courage to speak, looking for any excuse—anything—to just to save himself.

_And yet, he had none._

The white-haired male still sported the same piercing gaze, before turning his back on him. Immediately, he saw how the Black Dragon’s features softened, extending an arm and offering his hand for his lover to take.

“Youngho!” Taeyong barked, “Get me a shirt!”

Within seconds, the other Dragon stood behind Jaehyun, keeping a respectful distance between them. Jaehyun took the black shirt from Youngho’s hands, unbuttoning and opening it for Taeyong to wear.

The moment Taeyong took his shirt off, Dejun finally understood everything.

He understood how and why Taeyong was able to take down the thugs he hired easily, and how he seemed too relaxed even as Dejun had a sharp blade as his weapon and he basically had nothing. He understood why everyone within the triad uttered his name with utmost respect even after leaving the Gray Dragons. He understood why the other Dragons—Youngho, Taeil, Dongyoung, and all the others—refer to him as the Black Dragon’s lifeline.

The tattoo on his back answered everything.

Inked on Taeyong’s skin is a majestic dragon, white in colour. It had a teal hue of hair on the top of its head extending down to its body and tail, and its sharp eyes reminded Dejun of Taeyong’s own as they fought.

The tattoo was one that was all too familiar to Dejun, having seen it more times than he could count. It was the same image as the one Jaehyun had on his back, on the exact same spot. Only, while Jaehyun’s dragon is in black colour and it is drawn facing the left side, Taeyong’s faces the right.

__

Dejun’s mind reels back to his twenty-year-old self, when he was just formally initiated into the Gray Dragons after a two-year training period. Back then, he was eating with Sicheng and Jungwoo, when the latter asked him if he knew the story of the legend of the two dragons, to which he shook his head no.

_“It goes like this,” Jungwoo began. “There are two dragons, black and white. According to the stories, the black dragon is said to be the active one, while the white one is dormant. Everyone thinks that the black dragon rules, but in reality, once the white dragon is provoked, he becomes stronger than the black dragon. The white dragon is feral. And when that happens, only the black dragon can tame the white dragon. They’re each other’s lifeline.”_

_“Do you actually believe that?” Dejun asked._

_“Well, don’t you?” Sicheng asked back._

_He scoffs. “It’s just a story, maybe like romanticized story of how the Gray Dragons came to be? It simply doesn’t make any sense. And we only have a black dragon, Mister Jung Jaehyun, no white dragon bullshit.”_

Taeyong is the White Dragon from the story Dejun thought was a mere fiction. And he provoked the sinister White Dragon, causing him to awaken from his slumber.

His thoughts were brought back to the present when Jaehyun spoke.

“You betrayed the Dragons, Dejun. Regardless of your reason, you have deliberately harmed one of us.”

 _He’s not one of us,_ Dejun refrained himself from saying.

“You know exactly what the consequence is for your action.”

Death.

The consequence meant death.

Either Dejun kills himself, or another Dragons gets tasked to put a bullet through his head.

“No, don’t kill him,” Taeyong said, picking up the katana. “Leave him alive.”

“I don’t need your pity!” Dejun screamed.

The Black Dragon was about to march up to him and teach him a lesson for disrespecting his lover, only to be stopped by the White Dragon himself.

“Pity?” Taeyong laughed, mocking. “You’re pathetic enough to be here before us, but Dejun, you have no one to blame but yourself. Who told you to have this—this false sense of idolatry and hero worship towards the Black Dragon, anyway? Nobody did! It’s all you!” Taeyong begins walking away from him, and Jaehyun is by his side. “I’m not sparing your life because I pity you, Dejun. I’m sparing your life because I want you to live with the humiliation that you didn’t get to kill me, a person you think who is worth nothing, even resorting to using cheap tricks. Every single day you wake up, you’ll think about how pathetic your life is. Every single night before you sleep, you’ll remember how _you_ are the one that is worth nothing!

Even ending your own life won’t make you forget this kind of humiliation I don’t pity you, Dejun, because you’re pathetic enough as it is. I prefer the term…charity.”

Upon speaking the last word, Taeyong whirls around, throwing the _katana_ with a force that makes it spin in the air numerous times, before ultimately hitting Dejun on and through the hand, impaling his palm on the box behind him.

His deafening shout echoed through the whole warehouse, but nobody made a move to help him. He knows that the blade even went through his bones, and he felt nothing but an immense and excruciating pain as he watches his own blood gush and stain the boxes and the floor.

The door of the warehouse closes, and he could faintly hear the car driving away.

_Leaving him alone to wallow in pain, self-pity, and humiliation._

__

**_Epilogue_ **

Jaehyun opens the door to their home, ushering Taeyong inside when a little body came barreling to them, hugging the white-haired male’s leg.

“Papa! You’re back!” The little boy shouts with glee. “You took so long but I waited for you! You always get back home in the night when the big and small hands of the clock is pointing at number six, but now the small hand is on number two and the big hand is on number four! What took you so long?”

“I’m sorry, my little Dragon,” Taeyong bends down to his level with a wince. “Papa had to do some business. But Renjun, why aren’t you asleep yet? You have to sleep early for you to grow big and tall!”

“But I can’t sleep because you didn’t give me my goodnight kissies and I also didn’t give you my goodnight kissies,” he pouts but smiles immediately as Taeyong gestures for him to give his cheek a kiss. He wraps his short arms around Taeyong’s neck before showering his face with kisses, smacking his lips loudly against Taeyong’s skin.

Jaehyun then picks up their six-year-old son. “Hey, little Dragon, what about me, huh?”

“Dada!” Renjun giggles. “Dada, your clothes nice…the flowers are shiny, but they’re itchy!”

“Sorry about that,” Jaehyun laughs when he’s met with the same attack of kisses.

“Dada, Hyuckie hyung said you went to Japan! Did Yuta-chan-chan give me chocolates?”

“Oh, did you miss me or you just want the chocolates?”

“Chocolates!” Renjun answered cheekily.

His parents shared a laugh, before Jaehyun lead them to the master’s bedroom, knowing that Renjun will refuse to let go. He sees Donghyuck and Jeno, who usually look after their son when he and Taeyong happen to have matters to take care of at the same time. Nodding at them, the two Dragons bid goodbye before retreating to their own place.

Jaehyun places Renjun on the bed who was bouncing excitedly, while Taeyong went straight to the bathroom to rid himself of the filth.

“Dada, dada, do I have chocolates?”

With a fond smile, Jaehyun hands him his phone. “Why don’t you ask Yuta?”

“Okay!”

The Japanese heir picks up on the second ring, and Jaehyun immediately took the chance to follow Taeyong. The door is unlocked, and he witnesses Taeyong rubbing salve on his bruises. Without another note, he takes the small tub from the elder’s hand, putting ointment on the places he can’t reach. He also helps him dry his hair, and the older shows him appreciation by giving his jaw a kiss when they finish.

“Take a quick shower, love, it’s late and Renjun needs his sleep. We all do.”

He nods at Taeyong, and with a brush of his lover’s lips against his own, Taeyong leaves him to entertain their son.

He runs a quick warm bath which relaxed his tensed muscles. As he finishes and puts on a pair of sweats and loose shirt, he sees Taeyong and Renjun sitting on the bed, waiting for him, talking and higgling in hushed whispers. He settles in beside Renjun, who hands hims a piece of paper.

On it was a drawing of two dragons, a black and white intertwined together. It is obviously drawn by Renjun, based on his proud expression. It is similar to his and Taeyong’s tattoos, based on the colors, and Jaehyun found himself overwhelmed with immense love for their son.

“Do you like the picture, dada?” Renjun asks.

“Of course I do. This is a very beautiful drawing.”

“Thank you,” Renjun says shyly, beaming when his parents kisses his cheeks at the same time. “I used the new crayons you gave me on my birthday. I want to give you a gift but I don’t have money so I asked Hyuckie hyung and Jeno hyung for help and they said I could draw you a picture so I draw your dragons because I love dragons and you call me your little Dragon…"

“Thank you, little Dragon,” Taeyong says. “Let’s sleep now, okay?”

Renjun nods before turning to Jaehyun with mischievous smile. “Yuta-chan-chan said he gave me green tea panda chocolates and many kitkats. Dada, if I sleep now, can I eat them when I wake up? I promise to share them with you and Papa Taeyong and Hyuckie hyung and Jeno hyung and Ilie hyung and Youngho hyung.”

“Yes, my little Dragon,” Jaehyun agrees, hooking his pinky finger with Renjun’s little one.

“But dada, you don’t like eating chocolates so I’ll eat your share for you, okay? You pinky promised, goodnight!” Renjun lets go of his finger and hid under the blanket. He shares a fond look with Taeyong, smiling at their son’s antics.

To everyone else, Jaehyun may be the Black Dragon. To the people who knew, Taeyong is the White Dragon. But in their own little world, Taeyong and Jaehyun are parents to Renjun, and they vow that nothing will ever take it away from them.

Eventually, Renjun will learn the ropes of the Gray Dragons; he will join them like his parents did, maybe even rise to the top like Jaehyun did. But for now, they will let Renjun bask in the innocence a child deserves, and they will let absolutely no harm come to him.

Taeyong thought back to what happened hours prior. He knew that Dejun never really liked him, but he never thought that the young man would go that far. Dejun is power-hungry and he seeks constant validation, especially from Jaehyun. He is young, still immature, and perhaps, his greedy mind got the best of him.

He is aware how hard it is for Jaehyun to handle the Gray Dragons alone, but Taeyong never regrets leaving the organization to focus on his family. Jaehyun has also expressed his gratitude for every help that Taeyong offers, although he does not involve himself when it comes to fights. After all, Taeyong may have left the Gray Dragons, but he will always be the White Dragon, the Black Dragon’s lifeline, for as long as he breathes.

Right now, the name Xiao Dejun is nothing but a distant memory.

_01001111 01110010 00101100 00100000 01101001 01110011 00100000 01101001 01110100 00111111_

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos are always welcome and well-appreciated ^_^
> 
> hit me up on [twitter](https://twitter.com/calamari520)  
> and [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/maricalamari)
> 
> -loosely based on [Shinano Oumi's Double Snake](https://mangamutiny.org/title/double-snake)  
> -Taeyong's and Jaehyun's tattoos are inspired by the golden dragon at NCT 127's Kick It MV, behind Haechan and Jungwoo, 0:35 mark, and Studio Ghibli's Haku from Spirited Away
> 
> -Jaehyun's suit is /the suit/ he wore in Kick It, 2:42-2:49 mark
> 
> fic is heavily inspired by Double Snake and Kick It
> 
> DO NOT PLAGIARIZE AND/OR REPOST ANYWHERE


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